I want to drink a toast to a friend,
Who helped me in troubled times; he always tried.
Even though it was hard not to bend,
He never betrayed us, nor denied.
I want to drink a shot to a friend,
Who shared the last moment of rage.
Forgive me, if I have managed to offend,
And at times used foul language.

But never mind, for the friend will not hear,
He left me forever.
He will neither ring, nor write dear
Letters to me, ever.
For our friends we save our kindest words,
Until they lay in the cemetery's earth.
And then we will remember everything and how absurd:
Bittersweet, these are our ways, for what they're worth.

It is no sin to drink a toast to a friend,
To the memory of his eternal soul.
Suffocated by tears, it is hard to breathe at his end...
It took us too long to get to each other, such a toll.
I want to drink a toast to a friend
And I want to finish singing this song,
Quietly cries the guitar-girlfriend,
Continuing to grieve with me, so long.